


Never Look Away

by shuu_chan



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Kings Rising, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10235222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuu_chan/pseuds/shuu_chan
Summary: Damen thinks about how much he loves Laurent





	

**Author's Note:**

> And I don't know how I survived those days  
> before I held your hand  
> Well I never thought that I would be the one  
> to admit that the moon and the sun  
> shine so much more brighter when  
> seen through two pairs of eyes than  
> when seen through just one

They were sitting in a small meeting room housed in the Ios palace. Outside, it was nearing dusk now, the warm red shades of the setting sun filtering through the two large windows. The autumn breeze along the shore left the curtains fluttering in its wake. They had set up an impromptu meeting room in one of the many,  _many_  rooms in the enormous palace. Laurent had wanted to finalize the rough draft of the settlement, to be presented at the joint meeting of the councils of both countries—who’d be by then the Artesan Council—before the official summit.

So, here they sat now.

Their small group had consisted of Damen himself, Laurent, Nikandros, his closest advisor and kyros of Ios, and Herode, the most senior member of the Veretian Council. The latter had left them a few moments ago on account of tiredness.

They had been sitting here for the most part of the day. But Damen found himself relaxed without an ounce of boredom. That may or may not have to do with the fact that Laurent was there, sitting opposite of Damen. As of now, he was talking with his usual calm and self-assuredness, his elbows resting on the table. He was in an argument. With Nikandros.

Nikandros sat alongside Damen, lips pursed and impatient to interrupt as Laurent went on dismantling Nikandros’s own argument, prying each point methodically apart, with cool logic.

Damen himself was sprawled on his seat. The most important matters to be discussed had already been run through. The meeting had ambiguously ended when Herode had left. Nikandros and Laurent were occupied with their little dispute, which wasn’t anything of consequence anyway. Their relationship had shifted from distrust towards a somewhat grudging familiarity, with early indications of a friendship. Not that either of them would admit it. They looked like they were enjoying squabbling. Or not.

 Either way, Damen was not going to interrupt. And besides, Damen was more than happy to just look at Laurent in front of him, with the window behind him. He was a picture of ethereal beauty: Laurent’s hair glowed in this light, the brightness sifting through them. Like fire. His pale skin had turned a shade of gold.

Laurent was clad in his immaculate Veretian clothing. He had abandoned the chitons as soon as the warm summer air turned crisp. Still, he missed it. He still remembered their stay at Isthima. Treasured it. A moment of respite nudged in-between the hardness of politics and ruling. Laurent had truly let him inside the walls. Even now he could feel his heart flutter at the thought, the memory of Laurent as he really was: sweet, a little teasing and undeniably in love.   

When they had returned Laurent had once again returned to the cool kingly persona.

_But not really,_  he corrected himself. In private Laurent was still the sweet, loving young man with his defenses lowered, almost gone now.

 He could see Laurent opening up even more. Allowing more of him to show, to flourish. It was a continuous, steady process as they built their daily lives, their habits around one another. Each thing, fitting perfectly, like their hands. It was so sweet sometimes that it took his breath away. Their kisses, the unhurried cuddles, Laurent’s steady voice reading to him after a long day, the sweetest whispers…  _Everything_.  Laurent was thoughtful and teasing and kind and so,  _so_  sweet. And Damen was occasionally floored by it. The one thing he thought he couldn’t have, the one thing he wanted the most was his now: a future with Laurent by his side.

It was a heady prospect, to be king beside Laurent; just as it was heady sometimes to wake up in Laurent’s arms, basking in the glory of Laurent’s smile. Ruling was not easy and often he thought about how he could’ve done it without Laurent, without his steady arms and calm judgment. It was unimaginable.

Laurent was still talking, much to Nikandros’s annoyance.

He had just recently broached the idea of marriage to Laurent. It had been in his mind for quite some time now. A way to solidify their union, and their countries. But more than that, it was a way to claim their love and devotion and show it to the world. The cuffs weren’t enough, no; he wanted to make their union unquestionable, etched in the histories, to last any eternity.

Only he hadn’t been sure how to ask Laurent. He could’ve bathed the whole palace in flowers and scents and given the finest of gifts but he didn’t know, he didn’t have any idea how Laurent would truly react. And so, as they lay close together after making love, sated, Damen had found himself saying it without ceremony.

“I was thinking,” He started, trying for calm nonchalance despite the loud beating of his heart, “as a way to unite our countries—I mean, the divide between the population and the hatred…It’s—“

Laurent shifted his weight on his elbow and looked him with amusement, his brows raised and lips curving, “So you can talk about politics when we are in bed,  _Exalted_ , but I can’t?”

Damen flushed, actually sputtering. Laurent laughed and was probably going to tease him again, but Damen gripped his hand and willed himself to say it.

“Marry me” the words came out in a rush, “That…that was what I meant.”

He saw Laurent stop, truly taken by surprise. He blinked a few times before a blush colored his cheeks. He watched as Laurent tried to say something—once and then twice.

“I—“Laurent finally managed.

Damen took his hand. “We can think about it. I would like it very much.”

Laurent gripped back.  After a while, he seemed to have finally found his voice, “As would I.” And then, the smile Laurent gave him was so happy and genuine, Damen might have died.

It was odd to reconcile the image of Laurent, the young man in love, with the Laurent battling wits right now with Nikandros. But then it was Laurent; he was always full of surprises. His Laurent, he thought. And sighed a very dreamy sigh.

Next to him, Nikandros passed him an unimpressed look. Laurent just raised one eyebrow, deliberately.

“Tired, Damianos?” Laurent drawled, eyes locking with Damen’s.

“Not really,” he answered evenly.

Nikandros cleared his throat and stood up. “Exalted. Your Majesty. I’ll take my leave.”

Nodding, Laurent shifted in his chair and watched Nikandros go. “We will discuss it some other day.”

With a final nod, Nikandros shut the oak door behind him.

Damen didn’t take his eyes off Laurent. Couldn’t.

After what seemed like an eternity, Laurent met his gaze.

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you,” he said by way of chastisement, except that by the light in his eyes and curved lips, Damen could see Laurent was pleased.

“What?”

“Your kyros ran away because you couldn’t stop staring at me like some lovesick maiden.”

“He’s your kyros, too, now.” He said, crossing his arms in defense.

“So you’re not denying the other part?”

A pause. The small distance between them suddenly felt too long.

“Come here. You’re too far away.”

Laurent looked at him as if to challenge him and then huffed. But slowly he sat up and made his way towards Damen. He was smiling, the smile he reserved for only the two of them. They gazed at each other.

Tentatively, Laurent caressed his cheek, the softest touch. He closed his eyes and leaned into it. Laurent slid his fingers in Damen’s curls. He could’ve tightened his hold, as he did when they made love. But Laurent kept his touches gentle and soothing, combing the thick curls.

There was a burst of a feeling of rightness and belonging and Damen thought his heart was going to explode from happiness. Not thinking, he put his arms around Laurent’s waist, pulling him towards him in a full embrace.

Laurent gave a small laugh. “Idiot,” he said, his voice affectionate.

Damen hummed, too sated to reply.

Laurent tightened the embrace, one hand still buried in Damen’s curls and the other arm wrapping around his neck. “Today went well, “Laurent started, and then, more quietly, “At times like these, I remember how—lucky I am—and glad to be with you.” Damen could hear the frantic beat of Laurent’s heart pressed to his ear, “I always thought—“

He paused awkwardly. Damen pulled back enough to look at his eyes.

“I am here. I will always be here, with you.”

“Yes,” said Laurent, his eyes as soft as his touch.

There was a long unhurried silence in which they just held each other. There was no heaviness to it, but the past was always there, like the paint on the wall, enduring and static. But it was fading. Like the scars he had, on his chest and back, and Laurent’s too, invisible but running deep. And though the past was always near, threatening to spill again, they had the future. The last rays of sunlight were there, illuminating the room. And Laurent was here, in his arms, alive and brilliant.

“I am lucky too.” He said, finding Laurent’s eyes and reveling in them. He didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew.

Laurent smiled, cupping his cheek and placing a soft kiss on his forehead. The words seem to have awoken Laurent from the dreamy trance.

“Come on. There is still work to be done.” He said as he finally pulled away, smiling.

Damen grumbled but followed Laurent out of the room willingly enough, their hands tangling.


End file.
